


Forgive and Forget

by glimmeringapples



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28695915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glimmeringapples/pseuds/glimmeringapples
Summary: AU where Voldemort wins.After Hermione realizes how valuable she is to Voldemort and his followers in helping them track down the ever-elusive Harry Potter, she creates a plan to lure Voldemort's most trusted advisor, Draco Malfoy, to her side.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Forgive and Forget

**Author's Note:**

> lol this is my first fanfic so pls be nice  
> also ik its a little slow to start but ya gotta set the stage ya know?

Chapter 1

Hermione breathed deeply in through her mouth and looked around. The dark room she was in smelled of must and mold. She could barely make out the sliver of hospital white-light that the old steel door allowed in. Fading in and out of consciousness, she tried to focus on the voices outside of her door, murmuring words and phrases she couldn’t make out. The searing pain in the right side of her head was blinding, and she could feel the blood trickle its way down over her spine. Her hands were tightly wound, but she couldn’t feel any sort of cord holding them together; wizards did tend to be able to make escaping captivity extremely difficult. Her head lolled to the side as she tried to shift her position in order to get a look at her feet. How had she gotten here? She only remembered seeing the gray cobblestone of the Hogwarts castle, flanked outside by Voldemort’s supporters claiming that Harry Potter was dead. But Hermione knew better. She felt it deep within her that they had been lying, trying to gain sway that they didn’t have to convince the students that all hope had been lost. She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to remember more. The memories seemed distant, and her body ran cold as she remembered the way Harry had walked into the woods, sacrificing himself. She tapped her foot nervously, staring at the door across the tiny room. 

Then she saw it: Dean Thomas walking towards Voldemort and his supporters. Next, Seamus Finnigan followed by the Patil twins. What was she imagining? She willed herself to bring the image back, and soon she was sucked into the reviving memory. Standing outside, clouds looming above. Voldemort announcing Harry’s death; Malfoy walking over to join him, the rest of his cronies following him. But then Dean, Seamus, Parvati, Padma . . . Ginny Weasley? The flash of red hair in her mind knocked the breath out of her. She gasped, and the heavy steel door opened in front of her, flooding the dim room with sickeningly white light that blinded Hermione, almost making her forget what she had remembered. The man standing behind the door looked familiar. Dolohov? Karkaroff? She knew she had seen whoever he was at Malfoy Manor when Bellatrix had tortured her. 

“Rise and shine, doll. Somebody wants to see you.” She could make out his smirk even with the light pouring in behind him. She grimaced as she tried to move on the ground. “Can’t even stand up. Rabastan!” He turned and yelled down what Hermione assumed was a hallway, “Come look how far Harry Potter’s Golden Girl has fallen!” Hermione’s heart jumped and she bit down on her tongue to prevent herself from saying anything rash. She knew Rabastan Lestrange, and she knew what his entire family was capable of doing, especially when Voldemort’s loyalty was involved. Suddenly, a taller, gaunt looking man appeared behind the doorway. 

“ Ah Dolohov, finally. Here’s Potter’s little Princess.” He glanced down at where Hermione was still unable to get off the floor. “For Merlin’s sake help her Dolohov, you know he won’t want her dead.” He sneered at both Hermione and Dolohov before continuing down the hallway. 

“Filthy Mudblood.” Dolohov whispered into her ear as he roughly pulled her to her feet. “Maybe I shouldn’t have even wasted my time with you. Who knows if you’re even worth it to him? I didn’t fight all the other bloody Death Eaters to win a prize that won’t fetch me any reward, now did I? Make yourself useful.” He steered her towards the doorway, his iron grip clamped around her shoulders. He led her out into the hall, and she was met with the sight of what seemed like endless doors that looked like hers going on for what seemed to be forever. Her eyes widened. “Impressive isn’t it Mudblood? How many of you useless vigilantes we rounded up?” He snickered and pulled her around a corner, pressing her ear to a door that looked exactly like hers. “Hear that?” he said, forcefully pushing her until her ear and the door were completely flush. “Wonder if you recognize that voice, huh?” Hermione strained her ears and tried to focus on the sound coming from the other side of the wall and not the pulse she could feel hammering in her head. She heard an agonized moan that sounded eerily familiar. 

“I...know...she’s...here...please...just...let...me...see...her,” the voice said. Hermione’s heart dropped directly through her stomach. It was Ron. She turned angrily towards Dolohov and was met with a dizzying sensation; a result of that head injury she seemed to be forgetting she now was victim to. She steadied herself against the door.

“Why did you bring me here?” She growled, barely containing her anger. “Why let me know he’s here? Is this all just some little game to you? Are we all just some little game you use to make drama until precious Voldemort calls you in to do his nasty dirty work for him?” She could see the rise she wanted begin to mount in the irises of Dolohov’s eyes. “ Or are you so low on his radar that you’re tasked with the measly job of watching Harry Potter’s little friends?” She felt Dolohov’s hand at her throat before she saw it lunge towards her. 

“Do. Not. Speak. About. Lord. Voldemort. You little Hogwarts spawn are so cocky, so completely oblivious. Do you realize what is going to happen to you? Have you yet realized that the precious, golden Boy Who Lived is dead? Your little rebellion was measly at best. Three teenagers thinking they had the magical capabilities to overcome the greatest Dark Wizard that our kind has ever seen?” he leaned closer, his hand growing tighter around her throat as the air began to rush out of her lungs. “Pathetic,” He whispered, dropping his hand. Hermione immediately jerked away from the door, desperate to stop hearing the tortured sounds Ron was making. 

“Who’s in there with him?” Hermione asked, curiosity and dread overwhelming her body. 

“I think you two may be  _ very  _ well acquainted, Golden Girl.” His hand dropped to her arm where the word “Mudblood” looked as though it had been carved yesterday. “I heard she gave you this nice...souvenir.” He ran his cold fingers along her wrist, tracing the letter that made her sick everytime she looked at them. “Now you won’t  _ ever _ forget what you are.” He pulled her away from the door. “Loverboy’s screams are just so sad aren’t they?” Hermione glared back at him, determined to not show him how Ron’s screams had cracked her open. “Trying to be a tough one eh? Wonder how long that will take to break.” Dolohov smirked and continued to pull her down the hallway, Ron’s tortured screams fading in the background.

It seemed like an eternity passed before Dolohov pushed her in front of an old door gilded with gold. As they had progressed down the hallway the lights had seemed to dim, leaving the pair sheathed in an eerie glow. Dolohov whipped out his wand, spikes lining its handle, and shoved the tip against Hermione’s neck. “Just a little show, sweetheart.” He then ran his finger along the door, creating a pattern that looked nothing like anything Hermione had ever seen before. The doors creaked open, slowly allowing her eyes to search the dim room laid out before her. There was an ornate silver chair directly in front of her eyes, and she knew who occupied it before she made eye contact with him. As her stare reached his face, Voldemort’s eyes shined, his snake-like nose twitched upwards, and his nasty mouth slid into a small smile. 

“Ms. Granger. A pleasure to have your presence with us.” He motioned to a dark figure in the corner, and she saw a tall, willowy figure make its way towards Voldemort’s side. “I assume you know Ms. Granger, yes Mr. Malfoy?” Hermione stared into the eyes she had seen so many times at school, mocking her, and she didn’t recognize a flicker of emotion within them. His face remained passive as he answered, his platinum hair glowing in the sinister. 

“Yes, my Lord.” 

  
  



End file.
